our Arkansas Adventure
three women
in their seventies
travel four hours
walk their feet off
in largest art gallery around
crystal bridges
I am the baby of the group
a mere seventy-two
our driver is seventy-six
our birthday girl is seventy-five
the seventy-six-year-old is dancing around us
as we limp around the night tour of a forest
lit by fiber optics, with projector lights and sounds
I do not remember being out this late I say
it is nine-twenty-two.
we look for a restaurant
because we did not eat supper
they all closed at nine
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